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“Say it again.“
“Baby girl.“
“Fuck Rose,“ I surge forward, not even trying to stop myself.
Who the fuck cares if I get blood everywhere? I need her lips on mine, now. I need to physically express how much I love her. In this moment, I can't grasp words in any language. What I can do is trace the shape of Rose’s lips with my tongue. Fit my mouth against hers and follow the curve of her hips and along her waist with my hands.
I’m breathless when we break apart. Still controlled by adrenaline and completely unaware of the spectators. I don‘t fucking care. Let everyone see, let anyone see, the whole damn world.
What I lack in awareness of my surroundings, Rose makes up. She smiles knowingly, tangles her fingers between mine, leaving swatches of deep red blood on my skin in the process and pulls me towards the parking lot. She’s meticulous when she gets into the car on the passenger side. Careful to not mess up the upholstery. I’m still driven by urgency. Fumbling to get the key into the ignition, failing to start the car twice.
After we make it through the front door of my apartment all bets are off. I’ve resigned myself to burning my current bedsheets the moment Rose threw the first punch.
“Svetlana! Svetlana Vetrova!“
I keep walking. Barley registering my name being shouted anyway. There’s always someone who recognizes me at these kinds of events and it’s never someone worth stopping for. They know me for my father, some for having spent so much time at Ilya’s side, none of them want to say something kind. They want the cloud, a scandal or a comment they can spin into twisted lies. They haven’t gotten anything from me for a long time.
“Slut!“
I can't stop myself from flinching, yet I keep walking. I'm not going to let myself be baited and neither is Rose. Her holding my hand turns into a strong grip but that's the only sign that these kinds of words have an effect on people no matter how much you pretend you don't care.
“You're not worth it anyway. I thought maybe after Rozanov left you for a man, you might do something great of your own but I guess I was wrong. You're just hanging off the arm of the next famous person. When are you going to leave her for a new shiny toy?“
I'm determined to get out of ear shot as fast as possible but Rose apparently has different plans. She lets go of my hand and turns on her heels. I watch in fascination how she walks up to a small average looking man. He seems smug until Rose is right up in his personal space, pulls back her arm and punches him clean on the nose with a closed fist.
I'm stunned speechless.
The asshole definitely has a death wish, because he bursts out laughing amidst the blood gushing from his nose.
Rose seizes him up with a murderous glare. She looks incredible like this. Blood smeared across her knuckles, eyes blazing, conveying a wild, almost feral expression, chest heaving with every breath. If i didn't already know that I'm in love, I would be falling right fucking now.
Then out of nowhere she adjusts her stance, hits him first on the right side, then on the left, before she stills in front of him with raised fists. The superiority complex slowly bleeds from his features as he clutches his ribs. Seems like he is the speechless one now.
“Talk about my girlfriend like that again and I will do worse,“ Rose threatens before she leaves him standing, blood still dripping from his nose.
It's only when she's by my side again that I realize the crowd that has formed. God, this is going to be a PR nightmare. Even if by some miracle he doesn’t press charges.
“Let's go home, baby girl. I don't think I'm in the mood for this party after all,“ Rose's voice is obnoxiously loud, clearly playing up the sugar baby allegations but my brain short circuits anyway.
The heat of the moment that just subsided is replaced by a new inferno. It burns relentlessly all the way to my car and through the drive home. I'm pulling down the zipper of Rose’s dress long before we make it to the bedroom. She's still trying to keep her bloody hands from touching anything until she has no choice other than gripping my shoulders as I lift her up and carry her the rest of the way to the bed.
I feel like I'm melting from the inside, slowly dissolving into nothing but emotions and heat. Rose's bare skin under my fingertips is like a forest fire spreading between us. I fumble to shed my blouse and strip off my pants, and then finally I see the need reflected in Rose’s eyes. She's given up on holding back, painting my bra with bloody fingerprints on her quest to unhook the clasp.
As soon as the fabric falls away, she captures one of my nipples in her mouth. She sucks gently at first, swirling her tongue around the peak, and I swear there must be a direct connection between my breasts and my clit because her lips could very well be between my legs.
A moan works its way up my throat but before it slips free and floats between us, Rose is there to swallow it up. Her kiss is hungry and consuming, and I get lost in the way her body fits against mine perfectly, even before she pushes her thigh between my legs and I can feel her damp heat seeping through her panties.
My hands find their way into her hair. Gripping hard, needing something, anything, to anchor myself, lest the tidal wave of her hips slowly grinding against mine pulls me so far from the shore that I won’t be able to find my way back.
We lose the last of our clothes in a frenzy. Rose's panties first, including a lot of awkward shuffling and giggling permeating my bedroom. Her bra next, then my underwear. The reality of coordinating limps does nothing to cool the flames of lust. Our next kiss feels like there is no tomorrow and Rose keens in the way that I know by now means she's going out of her mind not being touched.
So I let my hand travel up her thigh, slowly, just because I enjoy making her wait. Rose is having none of it and bites into my lip, hard. I give her what she wants and push a single finger into her. I'm immediately rewarded with the breathiest, blissed-out sigh. Rose's eyes flutter closed as I slowly fuck her with my fingers and rub myself against her thigh.
It feels like my own personal symphony. All the little sounds that fall from Rose's lips come together in a rapid sonata but I don't want this to end yet, so I draw it out, slow us down, to something sensual akin to dancing. Our eyes meet and, even through the cloud of lust, I can see my own overwhelming love reflected back at me. The intensity speeds the sultry beat of our love making, turns it into a powerful crescendo that finalizes in a synchronized gasp, riding out the orchestral explosion.
I collapse on top of Rose, slowly pulling back my fingers, breathing heavy.
“So that was unexpected,“ I say into the comfortable silence wrapping around us. “I didn't know you knew how to fight.“
“I protect the people I love, and I take my job very seriously,“ is the only thing Rose retorts.
Her voice is sleepy and so am I. The warmth of her body lulls me into a sense of safety and I allow my eyes to close. We fall asleep with blood stained sheets and I guess if my girlfriend wants to fuck someone up for me and then call me babygirl again, I won't be complaining.